Page 23 of Runt of the Pack
“Is that better, now?” I purr as she buries her face in my chest.
She nods in silence.
We lay entwined as darkness falls, the rhythmic sound of my heartbeat and the warmth of my body giving her shelter from the storm of heat-fever wracking her entire being.
Evening slowly darkens the room. I will stay for as long as she needs, protecting my mate in her vulnerable state. All else can wait.
“Vlad?” she suddenly says.
“Mmm,” I growl, possessively encircling her slender waist and pulling her towards me. A smirk tugs at my lips as her supple curves mold against my hard body, perfectly fitting like puzzle pieces.
“Vlad…” she purrs, her voice dripping with desire as she moves her hips against me, seeking out the hardness that has grown between my legs. “I need you.”
I close my eyes, fighting the urge to groan as arousal surges through my veins. I know this is a classic side effect of a shifter’s heat. But still, it takes all my willpower to resist her. “Anya,” I purr. “You know this isn’t right. It’s the fever talking.”
She shrugs off my protests, her hands trailing along the ridges of my abdomen, nails leaving tingling trails in their wake. “I don’t care what it is. I need you, now.” Her hips roll again, more insistent this time.
I growl low in my throat, my restraint close to breaking. The scent of her arousal fills the air, maddening me. “Anya, please... you’re in heat... you don’t want this.”
“Yes. I do,” she whimpers, pressing herself against me even tighter. “I’ve never wanted anything more.” She moans as she licks her lips seductively.
Her sweet scent engulfs me like a wave, and I curse under my breath as my resolve crumbles like sand under a raging river. She’s irresistible like this—eager and uninhibited, her eyes clouded with need. She raises her hips ever so slightly, grinding against my rigid arousal, a silent demand that I cannot deny her.
“Alright,” I grumble, “but just this once.”
Anya’s answering groan is drowned out by my fervent kisses as I crush her soft lips beneath mine. Her sweet, intoxicating scent fills my nostrils, making me dizzy with need. With a growl of hunger, I peel away each layer of her clothing, revealing her naked form bathed in the moonlight streaming through the window. Her skin is like cream, luminous and smooth to the touch. My mouth trails a line of fire down her neck, pausing to nip on the point where her life force pulses wildly. She whimpers, arching her back, inviting more contact.
I oblige, my hands roaming over every inch of her body as if it’s my last chance. Her full breasts spill into my palms, hardened nipples aching for attention. I lavish them with rough kisses, sucking and teasing until she moans for more. Lower still, I let my hands explore the damp heat between her thighs. Her scent is intoxicating—a heady mix of arousal and womanhood that makes my wolf howl in approval. She moans and writhes under my skilled touch, her legs trembling as I tease the swollen folds of the place of her pleasure. Her nectar coats my fingers, and I can’t resist a taste. I delve my tongue inside her, eliciting a long moan from her lips.
“Vlad,” she moans my name like a prayer, “I’ve never... felt... this way before.”
I smirk against her core, loving the power I have over her sensitized body. My fingers and tongue explore her depths, finding every sensitive spot that makes her shudder and moan. She’s so wet, so ready for me. I know she’s lost to sheer rapture when she digs her nails into the covers, mindless with need.
“That good?” I ask, every inch the smug Alpha as I lazily circle her swollen bud. “You like how it feels?”
“Yes,” she pants, rocking her hips against my face. “More... please... more.”
I snicker darkly before straightening and taking in the sight before me: Anya, flushed and breathless, her chest heaving with each ragged breath. Her eyes meet mine, pupils dilated with lust and another emotion I dare not name. Before she can protest, I scoop her up in my arms and take her to the bedroom.
I lay her on the bed. Her legs fall open invitingly, revealing the slick folds that beg for attention. I position myself at her entrance, my rock-hard length throbbing against her heat.
“Are you sure about this, Anya?” I growl, fighting the primal urge to plunge inside her depths. “Once we cross this line, there’s no going back.”
Her response is a hungry moan as she raises her hips in invitation, silky folds parting to welcome me in. With a growl of surrender, I plunge into her wet embrace, and a torrent of sensations floods my senses. She’s hot, wet, and so tight around me. Her inner muscles grip me like a vice, ratcheting up the pleasure tenfold.
Anya’s nails dig into my skin as she arches her back, taking more of me inside her. I move slowly at first, easing us both into a rhythm that soon turns frantic. Her moans spur me on, each desperate sound driving me deeper into her abyss. I want to claim every inch of her, brand her as mine and mine alone.
“Vlad!” she cries out in a breathy moan as I hit an especially sensitive spot deep within her. “Oh, Goddess! Right there!”
I grin smugly as I continue to hit that spot with every thrust, eliciting more pleasured moans from those beautiful lips. Sweat glistens on our bodies, and the scent of their mingled arousal fills the air, intoxicating and primal. Anya’s nails rake down my back, urging me on as her body arches off the sheets, seeking more of my hardness.
“Oh, yes!” she moans, her voice a wanton cry that sends a shiver down my spine. I growl in response, lost in the heady haze of lust and need. My grip on her hips tightens as I thrust harder, driving us both to the brink of ecstasy. Her inner muscles clench around me, milking my length with mind-numbing pressure.
“So tight,” I grunt between clenched teeth. “You feel so damn good, Anya.” My eyes lock with hers, two beings caught up in the throes of unadulterated passion.
Her legs wrap around my waist, ankles crossed behind my back, pulling me even closer as she tips her head back with a cry. Her breasts bounce enticingly with every powerful thrust, and I can’t help but marvel at the sight of her: flushed and glistening with sweat, neck arched in abandon.
“You feel so perfect,” I groan against her ear, nipping at her lobe before trailing kisses down her neck, leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake. My hammering heartbeat echoes in my ears, synchronized with the wet, slick sounds of our bodies coming together. “So unbelievably perfect.”
